


Wildling, you make my heart sing

by Muze



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alys will not fear anything, Coyote Ugly references, Dancing, Drinking, ERASMUS - Freeform, Exchange Program, F/M, Falling In Love, Falling in Lust, Multi, Partying, Wildlings - Freeform, group chats, karaoke night, references to European student life since the American one is overdone, writing about going out instead of going out because of covid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:36:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muze/pseuds/Muze
Summary: Hardhome University wasn't the worst place one could go on a foreign exchange semester, Alys reasoned, especially when she could take her best friend Jon Snow with her.Which is how she ends up stumbling to the mic on a karaoke night at a local student bar together with Val, Ygritte and Jon. During the song she once again catches the eyes of the mysterious but attractive local Sigorn of Thenn, and decides she won't be afraid to pursue him that night.
Relationships: Alys Karstark/Sigorn of Thenn, Jon Snow/ Val (implied), Jon Snow/ ygritte (implied), Jon Snow/Val/Ygritte (implied), basically make of it what you want
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Wildling, you make my heart sing

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on my fanfiction.net account.

Alys Karstark was used to the unhospitable climate of the North. She was used to harsh and long winters, gruff men,wearing t-shirts when it was 16° Celsius outside since that _totally_ counted as hot weather and slamming down shots to keep warm.

No, she was no dainty lady.

Which was why according to her, Hardhome University, was not the most awful place one could go to during an exchange program. True, it had been on the bottom on her list, because who hadn’t salivated when seeing pictures of the Old Town libraries, the Highgarden archives and Dornish food?

Exchange programs served as trips partially funded by their university to go drink, eat, party and fuck abroad. It was known that most universities they could go to had a lower value when looking at international rankings, which meant that even though they had to go through the effort to learn another language, they would come out with better grades than they could’ve gotten at their own university.

Sansa had gotten to go to The Faith University of Highgarden, and truly, after all she’d been through with Joffrey the past semester, Alys was happy for her. Their friend Margaery had winked that while there, Sansa should get to know her brothers, but the traumatized girl had only smiled awkwardly at that. Arya had gotten Storm’s End, her favourite location, which served her perfectly since she’d met her boyfriend Gendry the previous year, while he was on an exchange program from that college. Jeyne Poole was glad to go to Eyrie State University, which was close enough to drive home during the weekends.

She was glad with the support her friends were offering her, they rightly feared she’d be sad, it was on the bottom of her list, and was even more cold and dreary than their home country.

‘Aren’t you afraid? I mean, it’s kind of known as the outback of the world. Like, have you seen the crime rates? And they say everyone is so rough and rude there’, Sansa fretted.

‘I once heard they don’t even learn the common tongue decently in school’, Margaery gossiped.

‘Come now. We’re not in the third century past conquest anymore. You’re all pretending like these people are still living there like they did in the time of Bran The Builder. Although, I have heard those men are ugly. Oh well, at least the booze is cheap’, Arya Stark muttered.

‘I’m not afraid, my friends. How bad can it be? I’m used to life in the North, I won’t be intimidated by a bunch of ugly bearded men. Let them fear me. Besides, I’ll have Jon with me. How bad can it be?’ she smiled.

.

.

.

.

Which was how she found herself at the Thenn & Now Bar, Jon crooning a song with Ygritte before grinding with Val on the rhythm of some 50 Cent song. One could say Jon Snow found the far north _very_ agreeable.

And Alys couldn’t disagree. The weather wasn’t that much worse than it was in Winterfell, the courses weren’t that hard, and the food and booze were incredibly cheap.

Ever since the pub crawl of the International Students of Politics Association, they’d become faithful customers to this bar, which mainly catered to local Humanities students, but since everyone spoke the common tongue – contrary to what was generally believed, although perhaps the pub right across the faculty building of the language students wasn’t really something one should go by when drawing general conclusions – they were welcomed most warmly, even though they studied the most abhorred politics, which according to the Humanities students was only an inch removed from the horrible crime of studying laws, economics or engineering. They mocked their studies every, night, but Jon and Alys weren’t too shy to mock their studies either, in the end, all japes were forgiven since they would all end up unemployed in the gutter together.

Since their arrival, Alys had gleefully rapported her findings in the group chat she had with the girls. Finding number one: booze was cheap. Finding number two: shots were lit on fire for fun. Finding number four: yes, all men had beards but they were hot. Finding number five: they did know the common tongue. And, although the average crime rate was high, the city she resided in was safe, and the entire country was adamant about gender equality. Which was nice, given that the crime rate in Winterfell was low, but the majority of all victims were women.

Arya replied that at Storms End, shots were drank from the belly-button when the evenings got particularly wild, the student societies still practiced fencing during drink and song evenings and she _had_ participated _and_ won. Sansa mostly posted pictures of gorgeous nature, as she travelled to all castles which were within travel distance during the weekends, shared recipes, pictures and clips of nights out.

But, what Alys didn’t report about, was the man she spotted at the bar almost every night she went. She had not been lying when she said the men had beards and were hot.

Perhaps it had to do with the fact that this was a bar mainly catered towards history, philosophy and language students, because he definitely looked alternative. He dressed plainly enough, like most around here did. She rarely saw him in anything but jeans and t-shirts, or jeans and dark button-ups. Tonight, he wore her favourite black t-shirt, not that he was aware Alys had a preference regarding his clothes.But he had pretty cool tattoos, and long manes of blond hair, he even wore jewellery, the cool leather kind. They’d never spoken.

However, she did know his name, since everyone at the bar knew his name. Most called him Magnar, and for a whole while, Alys hadn’t had a clue who everyone was talking about, then came a time when she was proud because she knew who everyone was talking about and then had almost hit her head when she discovered Magnar wasn’t his real name, but a nickname.

Magnar was the Old Tongue word for Lord. They all spoke most highly of him, recounting tales of wild nights spent partying until dawn with him, or talking about how he brought some student societies back from the edge of extinction.

He was almost a god, and she was a small exchange student. Having heard all the stories she had, she could be neither blamed for being half in love with him, nor too scared to talk to such a man.

The furthest she’d gotten had been, after a great many shots, had been to dance in the same circle as him, and do some dirty dancing. No, she wasn’t afraid to drop it low or grind. Although she blushed whenever she remembered her moves when she was sober.

The current song ended, and Val dragged her along to the bar for a Shot Through The Heart, while Jon put on the Bon Jovi song ‘You Give Love A Bad Name’.

Alys had never minded a good party, and had honestly believed that after three years as a board member of a student society, night life held few secrets for her. But the Far North had surprised her. If there was anything she was going to take with her to Winterfell, it was this.

The inebriated owner of the bar had gone out for a smoke, so, for the first time ever, the tall Northerner of her dreams manifested in front of her, ready to hear her speak.

Ygritte and Val had already put their money in her hand. She would have to speak.

Gods, the first time she’d speak to him, and she’d be ordering _this_ , of all things. 

She hushed her conscience with the knowledge that, having spent many years studying and partying, he wouldn’t look down on her based on what she ordered.

‘Shot Through The Heart for three, please’, she peeped. Trying to smile confidently as the two girls on her side grinned widely.

Sigorn smirked, taking her offered money.

‘Any shot y’all don’t want?’

She looked back to the girls questioningly.

‘Nothing with anise, that’s it’, she decided. All drinks with anise were awful, and you couldn’t convince her otherwise.

‘Sure?’ he asked quirking an eyebrow as he grabbed a series of shot glasses.

‘Positively certain’, she smiled in his native tongue.

He grinned in reply, and filled the shot glasses, setting them down in front of them.

Five shots for each, one per time Bon Jovi sang ‘Shot Through The Heart’. One filled with Absinthe, one with Strohrum 60, one with a pale green [Volantene](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Volantis) liquor, a whiskey and to top things off a shot of Tequila.

Ygritte shouted at Jon, and the song began. Really, it was great to have a bar where anyone could put on a song.

Shot after shot was downed, with a large woop following the last one, after which they went to dance as some local dudes enjoyed sang along to a song with the lyrics “From the window to the wall”. Really, the people here were obsessed with their history.

After some more songs, Alys pulled Ygritte close, asking how the crowd would react if they sang the song of The Troggs while replacing the words “Wild Thing” with “Wildling”. Ygritte cried out in enthusiasm, quickly telling Val and Jon of Alys’ suggestion. It was quickly proclaimed as a most genius idea, and the song was put in the wait list.

They passed their time, patiently awaiting their turn between other karaoke songs and normal songs. Val, Ygritte and Jon did some Jager Bombs, but Alys decided to keep it to her wine until the performance was over, she didn’t want to trip across her tongue while singing. She had little pride and a great sense of adventure, but that didn’t mean she wanted to embarrass herself.

And then, just as they were twisting and turning on the dancefloor, the song changed. They were barely in time to notice when the first long note was played on the guitar.

Jon cried out, and the girls pushed towards the stage with the greatest urgency as the plectrum hit the guitar for the first three times, knocking out everyone in the way as they laughed themselves silly for missing their own song.

Jon got to the mic first, because of course he did.

‘Wildling’, he crooned suavely as he looked around the room, stopping at the sight of Ygritte and Val half crawling half stumbling onto the stage.

‘You make my heart sing.’

Ygritte and Val mockingly fainted with the greatest of humour.

Ygritte grabbed the mic as she continued.

‘Wildling, I think I love you’, she breathed seductively, the crowd cheering her on. She headbanged on the rhythm of the guitar, clutching the mic to her chest as she looked Jon in the eyes.

‘But I wanna know for sure.’

She handed the mic to Val who continued. ‘Come on and hold me tight. I love you.’

The four of them started headbanging, red hair, black hair, blonde hair, brown hair, their arms moving as if they were the ones playing the drums.

Val put the mic in their midst as they all continued together.

‘Wild thing, you make my heart sing  
You make everything groovy, wild thing  
Wild thing, I think you move me  
But I wanna know for sure’

Alys had a great deal of fun, torn between singing and laughing as she danced to the music. But then, the mic was shoved underneath her lips only.

It was time for her solo. She looked up in surprise, watching what lyrics were up next on the screen before she looked around the bar, only now noticing just how many were looking at them.

_He_ was looking at them, arms covered in tattoos crossed as he watched them from his spot at the bar His face was framed by blond locks tumbling from his casual bun.

Who had a manbun in 2020, anyway? And why did it look as good as it did?

She couldn’t describe the feeling it elicited from her. Heat pooled in her stomach, and with a shock, she realized her time was up, and she had to sing.

  
‘Come on and hold me tight’, she pleaded while looking at the room.

Looking at him.

  
‘You move me’, she admitted.

The music picked up again, and she looked away to start dancing, giving herself over to the music.

‘Wildling!’ they all shooted laughingly into the mic.

‘you make my heart sing’

  
‘You make everything groovy, wildling’, she sang, hesitantly looking back to his spot at the bar from the corner of her eye.

He was watching her.

  
‘Wildling, oh come on, wildling

Shake it shake it, wildling.’

They laughed and jumped from the stage, Jon and Ygritte going out for a smoke, as her and Val returned to the dance floor. Alys peeled off her sweater, throwing it a nook with a pile full of clothes. It was always cold here, but inside it was incredibly warm because of the amount of people.

‘Oh, that’s the top we bought last week’, Val noticed as she gave her recent friend an appreciative look. Alys nodded shyly. She wasn’t used to being looked at, she always paled compared to the likes of the Stark family, Jon, Jeyne and Margaery.

But even she believed that, after having adopted the look of the local girl of wearing all black, a bright red lip and a winged eyeliner – the last with a lot of practice – she did finally look quite attractive in her own right, even if one of her girlfriend stood next to her. Which was a bold statement, given that her friends were nothing short of gorgeous.

‘Turn around’, her friend instructed.

Alys did as she was told, turning a circle around her own axis so that Val could get a 360° view of the transparent top.

‘You’re wearing that bustier bra with the lace in the back’, she grinned.

Alys nodded. She’d been hesitant at first. She’d never worn anything see-through or worn anything through which her bra had been visible. But she reasoned that since she wore high-rise jeans, and a bra that reached until her midriff, the transparent top was quite alright.

‘If no man steals you tonight, I’m going to be mad with our man on your behalf’, Val laughed as she pressed her lips to Alys’ cheek.

‘You don’t have to.’

‘But I want to. Honestly, you’re a babe. No matter what you wear, but your figure is to die for in that outfit, the outfit is bomb, your face is gorgeous when you’re flustered by the heat, and your curls tonight just look so cute. Honestly Alys. You deserve to have a hundred men fighting over you tonight.’

‘Just need the one’, Alys laughed as they continued their silly dance routine.

‘You have one in mind? I know almost everyone here. Just give a pointer and I’ll arrange things. Or warn you when they’re not worth it’, she laughed.

Alys shook her head, and they were re-joined by Jon and Ygritte.

She spotted Sigorn’s face in the crowd a couple of times, but they never got close. He was always dancing or talking to someone.

Busy man.

Why could she not pick someone more available? The Tormund guy who got along with Jon seemed nice enough, for little fun.

She excused herself to her friends and went to the bathroom, she took her time, answering a couple of texts as well before she went back, amongst which a most shocking series of texts in the Girl Quad group chat. Margaery had shared a boomerang picture of Rob downing a shot, at which Arya had shared a picture of Gendry next asleep in bed, after which Jeyne had uploaded a picture of herself and a hot guy in a night club, after which Sansa had posted a picture of Willas fucking Tyrell on the other side of what was obviously a very romantic and very chique restaurant table.

She was the only one left.

That would not do.

She retouched her make-up, spritzed some extra deodorant on, and exited the bathroom fully prepared to find any man willing.

The bravery lasted all but three seconds, when she exited the door and bumped straight into the tall blond man himself.

‘Shot girl’, he greeted her.

‘Shot pourer’, she smiled back hesitantly.

Gods damn it, Alys, this was not how you seduced a man.

Just as she was searching for a topic of conversation, her friends called to her.

She searched wildly in the direction where she expected them to be, but shockingly found them standing _on top_ of the bar seats.

Her mouth dropped open.

No way.

She’d seen it happen a couple of times. It was a quaint ritual, happening only after three a.m., and it was almost always done by the locals. She didn’t know if there was a sign for it, or why it was done, she only knew that, with regular intervals, a select few girls climbed on top of the bar to perform the water dance.

Val had told her that about a decade ago, a bunch of girls from the riverlands had introduced it, and ever since, the History girls performed the dance from time to time.

She saw the jugs of water being handed to her friends.

They cried for her again, beckoning her.

Hell no.

Karaoke had been fine, but dancing on top of the bar while throwing water at other girls like she was in Coyote Ugly was one bridge too far.

Her eyes darted back to Sigorn.

‘Water pourer’, he greeted her, his grey eyes appeared to be glowing, offset as they were by his ginger and golden beard, golden hair and dark eyebrows.

‘I guess I should go to them’, she muttered, voice barely more than a breath.

‘I’ll be watching.’

Her stomach did a flip at that.

So he had been watching her.

She could be brave. She could. She would be fearless, she’d told her friends.

‘Catch me when I fall’, she smiled, placing her hand briefly on his shoulder before pushing through the crowd.

Ygritte helped her on top of the bar. Her tiny purse and phone were handed over to the barman, who placed them underneath as a safety precaution.

Dalla stood at the furthest corner, Harma, Val and Ygritte stood on the long side of the bar, and Alys, the only non-local girl on the bar, was currently feeling incredibly out of place, as she stood on the other corner.

Val handed her a giant plastic jug of water, giving her a wink.

Alys looked at the jug.

She could barely believe this was happening. She’d watched the mysterious routine, and had been amazed by their boldness, freedom and wildness. They had been stunning, and she had been so happy just to watch, even as she couldn’t understand it. The music started.

She would not be afraid, she told herself.

She wouldn’t get many chances to dance on top of a bar while throwing water at others, all while the barman supplied them free booze after this. She couldn’t let such a once in a lifetime chance go by out of shyness.

Besides, she loved this song, she loved almost all eighties songs, but Deff Leppard was totally awesome and never would a single dance be as right for this song as the one she was about to perform.

Your eyeliner is waterproof, Alys, and you’ve asked Sigorn to look out for you. Even if you fall, you might just get lucky.

She started headbanging, throwing her arms in the air, she could feel water trickling down her arms as she looked at the other girls.

They were all dancing, hands in their hair.

The singer started, and they picked up their jugs, shaking their hips as they put their hands into the jug and started sprinkling the public before dropping it low.

Val made her way to Alys, dancing not unlike Patrick Swayze. Alys just danced on the spot, dancing as well as she could while having no clue when to start throwing water.

Val dropped through her knees, coming back up again and sliding down Alys’ front. She laughed, but continued dancing against Val. She could do this if Val was there to guide her.

‘Ready?’ she whispered. ‘You know the sign.’

Alys nodded, taking a hold of her jug with two hands as they both held it above their hands, shaking their hips and laughing as they prepared for the chorus.

She knew that it didn’t matter how you danced at the beginning, what mattered was how wild you went at the chorus. She considered a couple of moves in the few seconds she had left.

And then it was there.

“Pour some sugar on me”

Alys and Val threw their water at each other, laughing and shaking their wet hair. Doing it again when the chorus was repeated.  
  


“Ooh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me”

Alys dropped down, setting down her jug as she planted her feet and a hand on the bar, lifted her hips up in a vulgar thrusting motion she’d seen other girls make previously.

Val poured some more water on her.

“C'mon, fire me up  
Pour your sugar on me  
I can't get enough”

Alys couldn’t contain her laugh anymore and fell down on her butt, the water immediately soaking her jeans and panties. She crawled to her knees, shaking her hair once more until Val did a drop, at which she quickly grabbed a hold again of her jug, to throw some more water at Val.  
  


She could see Dalla and Ygritte holding hands as they poured water over themselves. Perhaps, they were still wildlings down here, but that made them such fun.

Amidst the laughter, her eyes connected with Sigorn’s, who was a lot closer than she’d anticipated.

If this wasn’t the ultimate chance to seduce someone, she didn’t know what was.

She rose with renewed determination, holding her jug and pouring it over her once more as everyone cheered her on.

“You gotta squeeze a little, squeeze a little  
Tease a little more  
Easy operator come a knockin' on my door  
Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet  
Little miss innocent sugar me, yeah, yeah

Give a little more

Take a bottle, shake it up  
Break the bubble, break it up

Pour some sugar on me  
Ooh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me  
C'mon, fire me up  
Pour your sugar on me  
I can't get enough

I'm hot, sticky sweet  
From my head to my feet, yeah

Take a bottle, shake it up  
Break the bubble, break it up (Break it up)

Pour some sugar on me  
Ooh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me  
C'mon fire me up  
Pour your sugar on me  
Oh, I can't get enough

Pour some sugar on me  
Oh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me

  
Get it, come get it  
Pour your sugar on me  
Pour some sugar on me  
Yeah! Sugar me!”

They all came together in the end, dancing arm in arm, singing along with the song, hair wet, clothes sticky, until the song ended and they jumped down.

But Alys Karstark did not hit the ground.

Instead she felt two hot hands on her sides, and floated for a couple of seconds until her feet finally touched the floor.

‘Got you’, Sigorn grinned victoriously.

‘Thanks.’

‘So how does it feel to be officially baptized as one of us?’

‘Wet’, she laughed, fully knowing an inappropriate comment of his could follow.

‘I can imagine’, he smiled softly.

‘Would they be mad if I went and introduced it in Winterfell?’ she whispered conspiratorially.

‘I don’t think they have anything to say about that, they stole the dance themselves. So by all means, go pouring water over your friends anywhere you like.’

Alys nodded with a smile.

‘So, Winterfell, that’s where you’re from?’

Alys nodded.

‘Born and raised.’

‘And so you decided to go on an exchange program to the single colder climate in existence?’

‘All hot places feel the same to someone who’s used to the cold, I wanted to find out if we Northerners are really as different as we claim to be.’

‘And what have you found out so far?’ he asked in amusement.

‘It’s not much colder, climate is greatly exaggerated, though you have nicer mountain ranges.’

He nodded, drifting towards the bar. She migrated to a couple of bar stools with him.

He lifted his eyebrows as he held out his hand to call for the barman.

‘Another wine would be great.’

‘Ah, and so there lies a difference’, he smirked as he asked for a beer and a glass of wine.

‘Oh no, we drink a lot of beer, and ours is great too. I just dislike the taste, but I can’t say that out loud in my country, or they’ll revoke my passport.’

He laughed, it was a short, warm burst of laughter, but it lit up his whole face.

‘And, do you feel a lot more civilized than us?’

‘After that dance, I don’t think I can claim to be’, she admitted with a laugh.

He nodded empathically.

‘And are we the dangerous wildlings we are made out to be on the other side?’

‘Come on, the wall’s been down for ages!’ Alys cried.

‘We don’t think of you as dangerous uncivilized brutes!’

He lifted a critical eyebrow.

‘Okay, my friends did fear for me when I announced I was coming here’, she admitted with a small smile.

‘And?’ he asked.

‘Well, perhaps you should see for yourself’, she laughed, as she showed him a screenshot where she and the girls were discussing local men.

In it, Alys claimed that they looked wilder, hotter, and were manly, smart, friendly and that she hadn’t met a single predator yet on a night out here, while she always encountered at least a handful at Winterfell.

‘Thus dies our intimidating reputation… Cuddly bears, really?’, he commented as he read her last comment aloud.

She shrugged.

‘If you want to see that reputation changed, there’s only one thing to do about it.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘Convince me that you’re not just a cuddly bear. If you can show me, I promise I shall extend the curtesy to the entirety of the country.’

‘Ah, the fate of all local men comes to rest upon my shoulders. A serious task indeed.’

The tiny smile on his face did all kinds of things to her.

She could feel a cold drop of water roll over her skin, which only served to remind her of how hot she actually was.

She slipped from her stool and came to a stand again.

He rose to his full height again, towering over her.

Her heart trembled, but she forbid herself to show any sign of fear, even when he stalked closer. She took a couple of steps backwards, not allowing the smile to slip from her face.

A part of her knew that she was now playing a dangerous game She was a bird of prey pretending to be a hunter, and the second she lost control, would be the second she lost the game.

She started moving her body along with the song, not breaking eye contact with him. He danced easily enough, dancing in a relaxed manner while sipping from his beer.

Songs changed, but they stayed together, and even started dancing together, his hands drifting to her ribcage and hips as she moved against him.

She sang along with the song, not allowing herself to be intimidated or rendered breathless by their proximity. She could feel his chest buzz. He was humming along with the song as well.

The men in Winterfell were way too awkward to sing along, they were stiff, sweet as they were, although apparently it was more cultural than biological, since Jon had started loosening up ever since he got here.

A Dornish song started playing, she knew it well, and allowed herself to dance freely to the beat of the drums and the rhythmic voice. As she slid down Sigorn, she could suddenly feel his arousal.

It had only been a matter of time with the way she was dancing against him, really. Coming up again, she was surprised to feel him pulling her closer, his hands travelling to the front of her hips.

Oh.

She could feel his face against her cheek.

Were they going to kiss?

He did not stop there however, his head bent lower still, until his lips were against her shoulder. He pressed down a lingering kiss.

He was giving her the chance to back out while making his intentions clear.

She didn’t want to.

His lips travelled towards her neck, slowly tracing their way up.

She gasped for breath. Her neck had always been her weak spot.

Her head lolled to the opposite side.

A prey offering its neck.

The predator struck, biting down.

She gasped again, pressing her body against his as her hands sought anything to take a hold of.

She finally decided to grab onto his hair as she kept him close to her neck.

After an eternity, he let go, tongue darting across the mark, a hunter proudly looking at his bounty.

She twisted softly, and he allowed her to turn towards him.

She got a good long look of him, hair tousled and pupils blown, before he bent down and she rose to her toes to unite.

Their lips connected.

Their arms embraced.

And they were lost to the music.

Their time at the club was limited after that. They were interrupted soon after by Jon, who was on his way home and wanted to check up on Alys first. It did remind her that the hour was close to four and they were in a public space.

‘Just out of curiosity, do Wildling men still steal women?’

‘We do, only now we steal them when the woman fights against leaving the man, instead of fighting to leave the man.’

Alys nodded.

‘So which one shall it be, Alys?’

‘You know my name?’ she stuttered.

‘There’s only two foreign kids at the bar, and they’re regulars. So of course I know. Just like you probably knew my name.’

Her shy laugh was enough of an admittance.

‘So, what’s it gonna be?’

‘I think I was about to attack Jon for interrupting us. So it’ll be the first one I think’, she laughed.

‘Very well’, he nodded.

‘Mance, the door!’ he cried at a tall dark fellow who stood near the door.

‘Wh-‘ but before Alys could finish her question, she was thrown over his shoulder.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Val cheering from behind her smartphone as she was carried away into the night.

The next morning when she woke up she’d see that Val had filmed the scene and put it up on Instagram along with a couple of pictures of their night.

She downloaded them with a smile, sending the clip to the group chat.

**‘Finding number x: Wildling men are still into stealing women, and I’m into them.’**


End file.
